She listened to his piece, her fingers still entwined with his. His words were brimming with her own thoughts, and with the truth. Only when he added ”no matter what that means for us” did her eyes leave his to flicker to the ground, tinged with worry and concern.
No, that is not what I want. She thought despondently, what I am suggesting is a means for us to return to our happiness -- together.
But what if that is not what he wanted?
How had she not considered that? Ayatah felt like kicking herself there and then. She had thought long and hard about how to go about their future in order to keep them both happy, and for their love to continue. But what if he wanted out? What if the pain and numbness that existed between them had resulted in his affections to dwindle and fall apart?
The thought sent jitters down Ayatah’s spine, and try as she might, she could not shake off this new fear. Their relationship had been so… perfect until most recently. When they had met, there had been an instant attraction, swiftly followed by a dead tiger and two muddy Myrians. And since those early days, things had just… progressed. Yes, they had their own lives and duties to complete, but each night (or at least, most nights) they would reunite together, kissing and laughing and talking about their day. Usually they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, even if that simply meant holding hands or stealing a kiss when they thought nobody was looking.
But that before the storm.
”Things have changed,” she said eventually, earnestly. That fact couldn’t be denied, ”but some things have not.” She still loved him unconditionally -- and couldn’t imagine that changing any time soon.
He had requested the truth from her, and offered it in return.
Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.
It was the decent thing to do, after all. She should sit him down; explain exactly what had happened in the jungle that important day when all things changed -- no, the story began before that. It started when Quinneth had patted her stomach that night before, leaving Ayatah confused… until she finally realised what the tiny gesture had meant.
I was pregnant, Raz. I didn’t realise until the night before the storm, and that was a night when you didn’t sleep here, so I didn’t have a chance to tell you before I had to go on patrol the next day. And that was when the storm hit, and I lost our baby. And ever since, I have in engulfed in mourning over something we didn’t plan, or particularly want. But what if it wasn’t the storm? What I’m unable to give you any children because of my Eypharian blood?
It would be so simple to say those words. That’s all they were, after all: words. Sure, they carried a huge amount of meaning - and pain and suffering as well - but all the same, they were just words.
But she didn’t say them. Instead Ayatah breathed deeply and said something else.
”I have been thinking, Raz. It is not… healthy for us to remain like this. And I cannot speak for yourself but after everything that has happened…” She paused, licked her lips and continued, praying he would not hate her for what she about to suggest. ”Taloba doesn’t feel like home anymore. This feels like a completely different place, somewhere alien to me. I… think I need leave. I think I want to go elsewhere, for a while.”
There. She had said something - albeit not everything. But it was a start, it was something.
No, that is not what I want. She thought despondently, what I am suggesting is a means for us to return to our happiness -- together.
But what if that is not what he wanted?
How had she not considered that? Ayatah felt like kicking herself there and then. She had thought long and hard about how to go about their future in order to keep them both happy, and for their love to continue. But what if he wanted out? What if the pain and numbness that existed between them had resulted in his affections to dwindle and fall apart?
The thought sent jitters down Ayatah’s spine, and try as she might, she could not shake off this new fear. Their relationship had been so… perfect until most recently. When they had met, there had been an instant attraction, swiftly followed by a dead tiger and two muddy Myrians. And since those early days, things had just… progressed. Yes, they had their own lives and duties to complete, but each night (or at least, most nights) they would reunite together, kissing and laughing and talking about their day. Usually they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, even if that simply meant holding hands or stealing a kiss when they thought nobody was looking.
But that before the storm.
”Things have changed,” she said eventually, earnestly. That fact couldn’t be denied, ”but some things have not.” She still loved him unconditionally -- and couldn’t imagine that changing any time soon.
He had requested the truth from her, and offered it in return.
Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.
It was the decent thing to do, after all. She should sit him down; explain exactly what had happened in the jungle that important day when all things changed -- no, the story began before that. It started when Quinneth had patted her stomach that night before, leaving Ayatah confused… until she finally realised what the tiny gesture had meant.
I was pregnant, Raz. I didn’t realise until the night before the storm, and that was a night when you didn’t sleep here, so I didn’t have a chance to tell you before I had to go on patrol the next day. And that was when the storm hit, and I lost our baby. And ever since, I have in engulfed in mourning over something we didn’t plan, or particularly want. But what if it wasn’t the storm? What I’m unable to give you any children because of my Eypharian blood?
It would be so simple to say those words. That’s all they were, after all: words. Sure, they carried a huge amount of meaning - and pain and suffering as well - but all the same, they were just words.
But she didn’t say them. Instead Ayatah breathed deeply and said something else.
”I have been thinking, Raz. It is not… healthy for us to remain like this. And I cannot speak for yourself but after everything that has happened…” She paused, licked her lips and continued, praying he would not hate her for what she about to suggest. ”Taloba doesn’t feel like home anymore. This feels like a completely different place, somewhere alien to me. I… think I need leave. I think I want to go elsewhere, for a while.”
There. She had said something - albeit not everything. But it was a start, it was something.
|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||